


The Chill of Death

by d0g-bless (d0gbless)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fuck the Galaxy Garrison, Grief/Mourning, Minor Character Death, Mutual Pining, Not sure if Sam is a major or minor character so why not both, Sam Holt Dies, Shiro (Voltron) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Wakes & Funerals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:20:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26257054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/d0gbless/pseuds/d0g-bless
Summary: Pidge hates herself for thinking it, but she (perhaps selfishly, perhaps cruelly) wants to cherish this moment. Maybe it's about taking away her own pain and grief by helping Shiro out of his own. Maybe she just wants to hold his hand, hope that he gets the message she's been too scared to deliver.Alternatively: Shiro and Pidge mourn the loss of Samuel Holt together.(Shidgetember Day 2: Chilly Breeze)
Relationships: Pidge | Katie Holt/Shiro
Comments: 4
Kudos: 14





	The Chill of Death

**Author's Note:**

> I'll preface this fic with this: Nothing prepares you for writing a fictional obituary more than editing real ones in a small town newspaper for a year.
> 
> Anyways, this is the prompt for Shidgetember Day 2: Chilly Breeze.

_Samuel Holt, age xx, died approximately on November 17, 21XX, in the line of duty, playing a major role in saving Earth from the Galra invasion. Sam worked at the Galaxy Garrison as an instructor and worked his way up the ranks to Commander. Sam was a leader through and through and stood up for what was right, even if it meant breaking the rules and regulations of the Galaxy Garrison more often than not. His students respected him and adored him, often seeing him as a fellow student rather than a professor. His loyalty went further than most; after the Garrison put out a statement about the Kerberos mission, of which he and his son were believed to have been killed due to pilot error, he continued to support the Garrison and work for them. That loyalty continues to be seen in his students and fellow officers and, of course, his family. He leaves behind his beloved wife, Colleen, and his two children, Matthew and Katie. A small invite-only celebration of Samuel's life will be held at the Holt residence._

* * *

"So, this is it," Pidge whispers to no one in particular as she takes the last handful of her father's ashes. "He's really gone." Pidge is a logical person. She's the brains of the Voltron coalition, of the giant robot itself, and yet despite her uncanny intelligence, it hasn't quite hit her until now that her beloved father is dead. It's a stupid thing to realize when you've got a fistful of your dad's ashes in your hand; surely she would have recognized it when she and Matt and Shiro found his body. Or when they broke the news to her mother. Or when they made funeral arrangements. Or when what little they were able to preserve of Samuel Holt's body was cremated.

But no. The gravity of her father being gone, forever _gone_ , hits her now, as she sprinkles the last pieces of him across their backyard. Before all of this, Pidge would have questioned her father's request, to have his ashes scattered near their house. But after the war, the battles, the homesickness, she understands it. As much as she loves space, there really is no place like home, even though right now, her childhood home hasn't felt like it in a long time. Not since she ran away to find her missing brother and father.

"It's okay to cry," Colleen says. "It'll help you feel better."

What a stupid thing to say. Pidge wants to come up with some snarky retort, but for once, she doesn't have something.

"Don't forget about the reception tonight," Colleen reminds her daughter, who is very unable to forget that fact. "Dress nicely."

 _"Dad wouldn't have cared what I wore."_ That's what Pidge wants to say. But she bites her tongue instead and mumbles an "Okay, Mom."

* * *

Thankfully the reception is very small, just a few Garrison faculty members who were close to Sam (all of whom Pidge despises, the fucking pigs and spineless worms) and students, including her fellow Paladins, of course.

Even with a small crowd (is less than twenty people a crowd?) there, it's too much for her. She doesn't want anyone to ask her how she's doing, how she's holding up, if she wants a drink or something to eat or a hug or anything. So she bolts, dressed nicely as her mother requested, kicking off her shoes as she flees to the backyard, a safe place devoid of anyone else.

Except it's not. There stands Shiro, white hair illuminated a ghostly silver in the moonlight, muscles straining what appears to be a rental tux a few sizes too small, leaning on the white picket fence. He jumps at the sound of her dress rustling in the chilly breeze, almost ready to attack, but eases when he sees who it is. "Hey," he says softly, with a little sniff as though he'd been crying. He probably has. "It's a lot in there, isn't it?"

Pidge nods. Shiro _gets_ her, he always has, perhaps more than anyone else, save for her father and brother and Hunk (who is like a second brother to her), and that's probably why she's been harboring a massive crush on him for years. But he's _Shiro_ and she's... who she is. There's never been a good time to tell him in the midst of an intergalactic war, and now isn't the time, either. Maybe she's afraid of rejection, which is ridiculous because that's certain to happen. She knows about Adam and isn't sure where Shiro stands in terms of sexuality.

"I needed some air, too. Since the arena, crowds are..." he stops to search for the right word, but Pidge cuts him off.

"You don't need to explain."

Shiro flashes a smile at her, a tight smile that gives her a glimpse of his pain, sadness. Fake but not quite fake, that smile. Pidge returns it, sure it's similar to his own.

"Can I join you?" she asks.

Shiro steps aside with a somehow gentlemanly gesture, like a knight in shining armor doing a curtsy. "But of course."

She appreciates that he doesn't bombard her with a million questions and happily informs Shiro of that. "If I hear one more person ask, 'How are you doing?' I'm going to punch someone. I mean, how do you _think_ I'm doing? My dad is dead."

"I'm sorry."

"For what?" Pidge says with a snort. "You're not the one asking those questions. In fact, you're the only person who hasn't asked me that. Hunk keeps looking at me with these big sad puppy dog eyes, and you know, I never would kick an actual dog, but I'm _this_ close to kicking Hunk in the shin—"

"It's my fault, Pidge." Shiro's voice cracks beneath the weight of his grief. "I failed him. I failed Matt. And worst of all, I failed you. I keep thinking, what if I'd broken out sooner, what if I'd worked harder to find Commander Holt, what if I'd made finding him a top priority... and if I did any of those things, we wouldn't be here."

Pidge wonders what exactly Shiro means by "worst of all, I failed you." She hopes in what must be a sick, twisted way that maybe Shiro does have feelings for her after all. But she can't let herself hope that or believe that. Not right now. "Stop it. You know that isn't true. We were in the middle of a war and had to make difficult decisions. We did our best in the circumstances we were given." Pidge lowers her head. "That's what I have to tell myself to make it through the day. Maybe it's a lie, but I have to keep moving forward. Can't let those what-ifs bog me down. Dad would have hated that."

Of course, Pidge is right, and Shiro knows it. Samuel Holt would have hated it, and he drilled his mantra about worrying in the present not only into Shiro but his family, too. He wipes away his tears away with his sleeve. "Commander Holt was a very wise man, wasn't he?"

Pidge tries to blink back the tears she's been holding in all day. "Yeah, he was." And suddenly, she can't anymore. With the dam broken, there's nothing to stop the flood of tears, sobs, cries, and feelings. Her mom lied; crying doesn't make anything feel better. It makes her feel worse, somehow, counter to everything she's been taught about emotions. There's a gaping hole in her life, and she doesn't know if it can ever be filled, and it probably won't be.

Crying must be infectious because Shiro's right beside her, bawling his eyes out, a snotty mess just as bad if not worse than she is right now, and all she knows right there and then is that she needs to protect this man whom she loves, act as his shield, stop him from being any more hurt than he is now, blaming himself for her father's death, but she can't bring herself to say anything more, so she takes Shiro's flesh-and-blood hand into hers. She hates herself for thinking it, but she (perhaps selfishly, perhaps cruelly) wants to cherish this moment. Maybe it's about taking away her own pain and grief by helping Shiro out of his own. Maybe she just wants to hold his hand, hope that he gets the message she's been too scared to deliver. 

The two stand in the backyard in silence, weeping while holding hands, shivering in the night's cold breeze, mourning the loss of a man they held dear, a man, who, if he were still alive, would bless their relationship, and tell them to go and be great.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * Constructive criticism
>   * <3 as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> 

> 
> This author replies to comments.
> 
> Also, feel free to follow me on Twitter [@d0gbless](https://twitter.com/d0gbless)! I'm always game for talking about shidge.


End file.
